Columbo
Never again
The old dog climbed gingerly over the pile of snow and collapsed, utterly exhausted and ready to die. For two days he had walked for miles over snow covered hills, under fallen tree branches , and across raging rivers. His golden fur was dirty and unkempt. Bits of dirt were all over him, tiny brown and black peices of soil and grime were stuck to his hair. His eyes, brown and big, looked helpless around at all the trees, so silent and menacing in the pale moonlight.
The dog started eating the snow on the ground, the miles and miles of pure white snow, the white delecious snow that was so cool to the throat. This was salvation. This snow had saved his life. This snow was something that he could live off for the rest of his ife. The sensation when that snow hit the back of his throat excited the dog. It tasted cooler than the coolest bowl of water he had ever tasted in his life. He was just about to eat the snow again so that he could feel that coolness on his tongue when he tried to open his mouth, but he could not do it. He tried again, willing his teeth to come apart, with no luck. He tried a second time, hooping against hope that something would change, that this would work, and still nothing happened. He tried over and over again, but o matter how hard he tried his entire jaw would not work. He looked forlornly at the snow as he lay his tired head on the ground.
The dog's heart started to beat more slowly, his entire body was shutting down. But the dog could still cling onto his memories for the moment. He was going to hang onto them until his last dying breath. He remembered lots of things. He remembered his master, a young man who treated him very well. Who took him for walks rain hail or shine, fed him big juicy bones and succulent meat, bathed him when he got muddy, housed him by providing him with a comfortable dog bed, and spent time with him by playing games of fetch in the expansive backyard. But a couple of days ago the master and the dog, travelling to a unknown park, got seperated near a patch of grass next to a huge forrest whilst the master nearly got run over by a loud and ugly motorbike which just missed him by several inches. The dog, scared of the loud noise of this disgusting menance, quickly bolted away into the forrest where he proceeded to get lost. The darkness, and the strange reatures that haunted the place scared the dog. First he began growling at all the strange noises, but soon as night began to fell and the darkness became darker, he started whimpering for his master.m But his master did not come during that night, so the dog, scared of the creatures and the darkness, decided to leave the forrest. Unfortunately, he got lost and ended up exiting through the wrong end of the forrest. He ended up in a hilly and unfamiliar area. With brown coloured grass, dirty rivers and a stench of dead cows that wafted through the air. From there he started his journey to try and find his way home. The long arduous journey home so that he could be reunited with his master.
The dog closed its eyes, drifting off to a pleasant sleep forever to dream about playing fetch with his master and finding that big juicy bone.
The dog started eating the snow on the ground, the miles and miles of pure white snow, the white delecious snow that was so cool to the throat. This was salvation. This snow had saved his life. This snow was something that he could live off for the rest of his ife. The sensation when that snow hit the back of his throat excited the dog. It tasted cooler than the coolest bowl of water he had ever tasted in his life. He was just about to eat the snow again so that he could feel that coolness on his tongue when he tried to open his mouth, but he could not do it. He tried again, willing his teeth to come apart, with no luck. He tried a second time, hooping against hope that something would change, that this would work, and still nothing happened. He tried over and over again, but o matter how hard he tried his entire jaw would not work. He looked forlornly at the snow as he lay his tired head on the ground.
The dog's heart started to beat more slowly, his entire body was shutting down. But the dog could still cling onto his memories for the moment. He was going to hang onto them until his last dying breath. He remembered lots of things. He remembered his master, a young man who treated him very well. Who took him for walks rain hail or shine, fed him big juicy bones and succulent meat, bathed him when he got muddy, housed him by providing him with a comfortable dog bed, and spent time with him by playing games of fetch in the expansive backyard. But a couple of days ago the master and the dog, travelling to a unknown park, got seperated near a patch of grass next to a huge forrest whilst the master nearly got run over by a loud and ugly motorbike which just missed him by several inches. The dog, scared of the loud noise of this disgusting menance, quickly bolted away into the forrest where he proceeded to get lost. The darkness, and the strange reatures that haunted the place scared the dog. First he began growling at all the strange noises, but soon as night began to fell and the darkness became darker, he started whimpering for his master.m But his master did not come during that night, so the dog, scared of the creatures and the darkness, decided to leave the forrest. Unfortunately, he got lost and ended up exiting through the wrong end of the forrest. He ended up in a hilly and unfamiliar area. With brown coloured grass, dirty rivers and a stench of dead cows that wafted through the air. From there he started his journey to try and find his way home. The long arduous journey home so that he could be reunited with his master.
The dog closed its eyes, drifting off to a pleasant sleep forever to dream about playing fetch with his master and finding that big juicy bone.
